


A Game of Chance

by bubblewrapstargirl



Series: Archive of My Older Fics [1]
Category: British Singers RPF, McFly
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland setting, Angst, Happily Ever After, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Nightmare, Wonderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblewrapstargirl/pseuds/bubblewrapstargirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A darker alternative to Alice’s adventures. Within the universe of Wonderland, there are nightmarish places, where the living fear to tread… will Danny be able to brave the castle of the Queen of Spades in order to free the soul of the one he loves?</p><p>***WINNER- SECOND PLACE in the McFly Slash Disney Challenge 2009***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_“Tell me again about the dreams.”_

_  
Danny stiffens. He doesn’t want to talk about the dreams. Dr Little knows this, and that’s why she asks about them. Apparently it’s better to get things out into the open, rather than keep them bottled up._

_  
“They haven’t changed since last time.” Danny says, hoping the subject will be dropped._

_  
It isn’t._

_  
“Then let’s run through it again. See if we notice anything new.” Suggests Dr Little, in that tone adults use when they’re concealing an order within a request._

_  
Danny wants to sigh, but he doesn’t, because that would be rude. She’s only trying to help._

_  
“I’m in a large, gloomy castle, walking up a never-ending staircase. Everything is dark and shadowy, and it’s completely empty; I’m all alone._

_  
“It takes forever, but I finally reach the top of the stairs and I’m in a windowless corridor. It’s long and twisty and there are these disgusting paintings on the walls, they’re just twisted you know? They’re just regular things; people, the countryside, but they’re just… not right._

_  
“Anyway, I keep going, and there’s this flickering light, I’m following it, but I can’t see where it’s coming from. It doesn’t help me to see though, because it’s still ridiculously dark, but I keep going, because there’s something I have to do…”_

_  
Dr Little interrupts him, as always; “What is it? Do you know yet?”_

_  
Danny shakes his head, mute for a moment, before carrying on in the same fashion; “Eventually I reach a large set of double doors, and the light hovers over it, just this little ball of light, waiting for me. I put my hand on one of the door handles, but I don’t try to open it. I just, stand there, and wait. I can feel someone’s eyes on me, someone watching me, and I know it’s her. The Queen of Spades.”_

_  
Danny stops here, because just saying her name makes his blood run cold. It’s stupid, and childish, but she scares him more than anything else in the world, and he doesn’t know why._

_  
“How do you know it’s her?” Dr Little asks, just as always, pushing her glasses up her elegant nose._

_  
Usually Danny answers with a frustrated “I just do!”, but today he pauses. How does he know? He’s never seen her, but still he knows what she looks like; long dark hair piled high on her head and framing her face, curls cascading over her shoulders, sallow skin lined with bluey-green veins, deep set eyes, black as night…_

_  
Danny considers the question for a long moment._

_  
“I can hear her, I think. In my mind.”_

_  
Dr Little starts, caught off guard by this new morsel of information. “What does she say?” she asks, leaning forwards, intrigued._

_  
“Nothing… not that I can understand anyway. It’s just like, a_  pulse  _of darkness, that beats in my mind. I know what she wants – she wants to steal my soul… and I just stand there, too afraid to go any further, and then I wake up.”_

_  
“But you know what is beyond the door?”_

_  
“A huge ballroom, and the Queen in the middle, at the back, on a throne.”_

_  
“How do you know?”_

_  
“I don’t know, I just do. I can feel it.”_

_  
“For a moment, I want you to imagine that it’s Tom, not Danny, waiting outside the door. What would Tom do?”_

_  
Danny doesn’t need long to consider it._

_  
“He’d take a deep breath and just go for it, walk right in like he’s supposed to be there, and he knows exactly what he’s doing, even though he’d be bricking it on the inside.”_

_  
“What would happen then, do you think?”_

_  
“I don’t know. The Queen of Spades would probably turn him to smoke or ash or shadow.”_

_  
“Why would she do that?”_

_  
“Because that’s what she does to people. She eats their soul and turns their body into something like that, something weak and bitty, something which will float away into nothingness.”_

_  
“If you’ve never been into the room, Danny, how can you know what’s going on inside of it?”_

_  
Danny shrugs. “I don’t know. I just do.”_

  
-*-

  
Tom was Danny’s best friend. He still is – no one has taken his place, Danny doubts that anyone ever could, but it’s hard to be best friends with a headstone. That doesn’t stop Danny from trying his very best though.

  
Whenever he has a free moment, Danny occupies the brilliantly verdant grass in front of Tom’s large granite marker, cross-legged, picking at the clover by his feet. He has yet to find a four-leafed one.

  
He sits for hours and hours, talking about anything that pops into his head, until his throat is sore and scratchy, and his legs numb, and sometimes it feels as though he has achieved nothing. Frustrated tears well up, and burst forth, covering his face with hot and salty streams... But most days a trip to the graveyard is enough.

  
When it isn’t, when Danny feels as though he has only been conversing with the crows and sparrows, he cries, for the pointless waste of his best friend’s life, that fateful winter night. Dutifully he waits for his tears to dry, and goes to the bridge.

  
It’s just a small stone bridge, over the little river that separates the outskirts of their village from the larger town. Danny can always feel Tom here. Not because they spent a lot of time here before, or because it held any sort of significance for them before Tom… left him, but because this is where it happened.

  
There is only the tiniest pedestrian path at either side of the bridge, and no one lingers here, except on stormy winter nights when they have to go home unexpectedly, and there will be no bus for hours, and home is only half an hour on foot. Unsuspecting winter’s nights, where the weather plays a chief part in the destruction, masking the sound of vehicles driven at breakneck speed by the irresponsible…

  
For months afterwards there were these grubby, rust-coloured marks on the wall which were disturbingly like… and Danny was convinced it  _was_  Tom blood, since this is the spot where he was pushed into the river below.

  
Danny spent hours sat on the opposite side of the bridge, staring at the stains that marked Tom’s last few moments on solid ground before he was acquainted, head first, with the gurgling stream, where he had attempted to keep grasp of his consciousness, struggling to breathe as he fought to stay afloat, trying to fill his punctured lungs with oxygen rather than blood, before he succumbed to the darkness of that unforgiving, icy water.

  
But then Danny’s mother found out, and complained to the council that the patchy decay looked ‘morbid’, and though they argued it had been painted over once already, they consented to paint it again. But Danny that knows it’s still there, hiding under its white veneer.

  
It isn’t safe to spend long on the bridge though. Not with all the cars whizzing past, cars that can swerve on the wet roads and slam you against the ancient brickwork, crushing your ribcage into brittle little shards, daggers of bone which cut into your lungs… and the force propels you into the frigid river below, thick and swift from sustained heavy rainfall. Cars that speed off, leaving you to choke to death on your own blood and that same icy water which confounds your senses, rendering it impossible to swim.

  
With these dangers in mind, Danny always crosses the bridge swiftly these days, since there is no visible mark to sit and watch, he now prefers to occupy the grassy banks of the river below instead.  He sits and watches the water swell and flow with empty eyes, having no more tears left.

  
He often places a hand on the bridge, closing his eyes. It seems to hum with energy – Tom’s energy. Almost as though Tom’s soul got lost when leaving his body and instead of reaching the stars was instead sucked into the gushing waters and the old bridge, doomed to rush endlessly through that black water, or restlessly from stone to stone and back again.

  
Sometimes Danny can’t feel anything though, so he just sits, alone on the damp turf, staring at the places where Tom was last alive, unable to quieten the voices in his mind, or fill that hollow place inside of him that Tom left behind.  
  
***


	2. Foundlings

_“Do you believe in heaven?”_

_  
Danny shifts, uncomfortable on the leather which is sticking to his trouser legs from the central heating, making the room stuffy and claustrophobic._

_  
“I don’t think so, no.” He answers eventually._

_  
“Do you believe in any type of afterlife?”_

_  
Dr Little seems to be paying particularly close attention to his responses today, and Danny knows why._

_  
“Not really.” Danny is finding it difficult to be forthcoming._

_  
He wriggles in his seat again. Having school uniform which was generally scruffy, haphazardly thrown on in the morning, buttons undone and stitching unravelling, means Danny is not accustomed to the feel of a suit like this, neat and sharp, collar sticking into his neck. He thumbs open the top button, adjusting his tie as Dr Little scribbles something down on her notes._

_  
“Do you think Tom believed in any type of afterlife?”_

_  
Danny shuffles some more, wiping an invisible piece of dirt off his trousers. He’s only dressed like this because it’s Tom’s day. Not the day of his birth… the other one, the anniversary of that day of sorrow, which seemed to simultaneously wipe the sunlight out of Danny’s life, whilst pouring in the darkness – thick and impenetrable._

_  
But Tom would have liked to see him dressed like this. He always said it was nice to see him in something other than jeans._

_  
“He said he wanted to be reincarnated as a rook.” Danny reluctantly mumbles, remembering Tom’s declaration one hazy summer evening, when they were lying on the thick grass of his back garden, trying to make sense out of the indefinable clouds…_

_  
“Another name for the castle in Chess, am I correct? Very fitting.”_

_  
Danny nods in agreement. He has nothing more to say._

  
-*-

  
Tom’s mother gave Danny his chess set, a few months after he… went away.

  
“He would have wanted you to have it.” She said, thrusting it into his hands, face drawn with heavy lines, dry now of the tears that wracked her frame for so long afterwards, crisp and devoid of happiness, now. And that was that.

  
It had lay barren in Danny’s room ever since. Tom had been an avid fan of the game, and though Danny had never really grasped why, Tom had been patient with him, teaching him and never mocking him when he inevitably made mistakes and got it wrong. Now Tom’s beloved set lies, forgotten on a shelf in his best friend’s room.

  
Danny can’t bring himself to handle it, as though he would rub Tom’s essence from the pieces if he touched them too often. So the pieces sit, waiting, for a game to begin, slowly gathering dust.

  
Danny’s staring at them now, having returned from Dr Little’s office. He has a few hours until he has to go out again, and he feels shaken from their session, like a loose thread that has been pulled one too many times and is now hanging free from the rest of the tapestry, with no hope of realignment.

  
He doesn’t have enough time to get to the bridge and then the graveyard, but if he sets off for the graveyard now, to meet with his and Tom’s family, he’ll be far too early.

  
So instead he waits, considering the monochrome pieces that Tom loved so much.

  
-*-

  
_“You mentioned that Tom’s mother was going to give you some more of his things?”_

_  
“Yeah.” Danny doesn’t know where to begin. “She decided it was time to go through his room, since it’s been a year and all, and she put aside some stuff she thought I might want.”_

_  
Danny rifles through his rucksack, pulling out a thick wad of paper._

_  
“This was actually addressed to me… Tom- well. He liked to write stories. Last year, after my birthday, I asked him to just write me a story for my next birthday; because I knew he wanted to save up for drivin’ lessons and that. He never mentioned anything so I thought he had forgotten all about it, but I guess he… didn’t.”_

_  
Dr Little smiles. “So he never talked to you about it?”_

_  
Danny shakes his head. “He must have hoped I’d forget, and then it would be a surprise.”_

_  
“May I see it?”_

_  
Danny gingerly hands it over, studying Dr Little’s face as she reads the title page._

_  
“The Queen of Spades.” Dr Little isn’t able keep the shock off her features, even though she tries her best. Danny can feel the corners of his mouth tilt upwards in a small smile._

_  
“You’re sure you’ve never seen this manuscript before? You never talked about it?”_

_  
“Never.” Danny confirms, gathering the papers back up, trying valiantly to keep the smugness out of his voice._

_  
“It’s an amazing coincidence.”_

_  
Danny shakes his head again, more forcefully this time, allowing his unruly brown curls to swirl about his face._

_  
“It can’t be a coincidence. Too much of it is the same. It’s about this evil Queen who lives in a gloomy castle, stealing the soul of anyone who dares to trespass, sucking out their life energy so she can live forever. And it’s all about this quest to get rid of her.”_

_  
“Who is the hero?”_

_  
Danny pauses. “That’s the scariest part. It’s me. She’s seen me, through this magic mirror, and wants me as her next victim, and in order to like, steal my energy, she needs to get me into the ballroom, where her powers are strongest. No one ever leaves once they’ve gone in. Basically, she has to make me want to go there in the first place, so she steals something precious to me, so I’ll wanna retrieve it.”_

_  
“And what did she take?”_

_  
“My necklace.” Danny fingers the small, disused coin on the simple leather band around his neck. “Tom found this, on an adventure trip when we were little. He gave it to me, and I’ve kept it all this time. I’d… hate to loose it. So, I go to try and find it, in the river, where I think I’ve lost it, and I get dragged under and… wake up in this other world.”_

_  
Dr Little’s hand is clenched so tightly around her sharp, steel-coloured pen her knuckles have gone white. “And what happens in the end? How does it conclude?”_

_  
“It doesn’t. It isn’t finished – the final chapter is missing. He never got a chance to finish it.” Danny’s eyes are glowing with excited energy. “I’m left, waiting outside the door to the ballroom, trying to gather the courage to go inside.”_


	3. Dreamscapes

Danny asks Tom’s mother about the story, but he doesn’t mention his dreams. She doesn’t know anything about it, but she gives him permission to look through Tom’s things, to try and find any notes on the ending. He finds nothing.

  
Desperately disappointed, he reluctantly gives up after a whole afternoon of searching. Danny concludes that whatever Tom had planned for the ending, he kept it to himself, and took it with him to the grave.

  
Tom’s mother invites him to stay for dinner, but Danny politely declines, saying he already has plans. In truth, Danny just needs to think, needs to figure out what to do.

  
He doesn’t bother with the graveyard this time – he just goes straight to the bridge.

  
-*-

_  
“Why don’t you want to try the medication?”_

_  
Danny shrugs. He doesn’t attempt a verbal response. He’s tired of being polite._

_  
“It would blot out the dreams, giving you some long, uninterrupted sleep. You couldn’t take it all the time of course, but once or twice a week could really help. It would mean you were less restless all the time - and stop you from being listless at school.”_

_  
Danny still says nothing. He doesn’t want pills._

_  
“Danny-”_

_  
“I don’t want them.” Danny cuts across her harshly, then blinks, shocked by the ferocity of his own tone. “Thank you.” He adds, in an effort to redeem himself._

_  
“Alright.” Dr Little fixes him with a steely gaze. “But you still haven’t given me a reason why?”_

_  
“Because… it would be like running away wouldn’t it? Tom always said you should face your problems head-on, not try and hide from them. I have to stand and face the Queen of Spades one day, or I’ll never be free of her, will I?”_

_  
Dr Little nods thoughtfully, absent-mindedly tapping her pen against her chin. “That’s very noble of you Danny.”_

_  
She shifts a little in her plush red chair, re-arranging her skirt before leaning forwards to scrutinise him again._

_  
“But you are aware that the Queen is only fiction? I believe she symbolises your distress, which, of course, is only expected after losing someone so close to you. It was very sudden, nothing you could have prepared yourself for. And they never did catch the driver… I think you needed to give a face to the perpetrator, and find a reason for why things happened the way they did. It’s perfectly normal to try and make sense out of chaos, Danny. But sometimes there are no sufficient answers; life isn’t a nicely wrapped package. Even though your dreams, and Tom’s story, are so similar, it doesn’t mean- well... You are quite aware that she is a purely fictional nightmare?”_

_  
Danny nods, not quite trusting his voice. Dr Little seems satisfied anyway, making a hasty note with her pen._

_  
“Did you find any more notes on the narrative? Anything on the ending?”_

_  
“No. It was all in Tom’s head, he never- never had a chance to…” Danny trails off, focusing on his fingernails._

_  
He takes a deep breath, finally voicing what’s been playing on his mind since he found the story. “It’s funny though, isn’t it? The way the story works- that I was supposed to lose something precious, to the river, to the Queen... And then I did.”_

  
-*-

  
That night, Danny doesn’t dream of the castle. He dreams of the bridge. He’s standing on it, on the actual ledge, icy wind brushing against his clothes like softly grasping hands.

  
His curly hair floats back, off his face in the gentle breeze, and he spreads his feet a little wider so that his legs are parallel to his shoulders, the way they showed them in P.E. Feet planted firmly on the bricks, he spreads out his arms, splaying his fingers wide.

  
It feels as though he’s standing on top of the world; tilting his head back, he takes in the dark, patchy sky, gloomy in shades of grey. His view begins to blur as though someone spilled water over a greyscale painting, shades mixing, swirling together…

  
He rolls his head forwards again. The river gushes out from underneath his feet, churning and gurgling, hungry. All else is still, all but a single flitter of black in the distance.

  
Danny can just about make it out; a rook. It flutters harmlessly, diving and swooping through the black trees, gliding handsomely towards him. But instead it plunges and dives, deep, deep into the river, and disappears under the frothy, turbulent water.

  
He stares intently into the river’s black depths but the bird doesn’t resurface. The longer he looks, the more he can begin to distinguish images in the swirling depths – patterns.

  
Suddenly, the scene moves with intense ferocity- shadows pitch into the centre of the river, great tides of water rush inwards; a jerky circle forms directly below Danny’s gaze. The sky is a raging hurricane of black cloud, howling and screaming in his ears, hurling around him as the whirlpool of water sinks ever deeper; a bottomless pit leading to straight hell.

  
Danny wavers, stumbles, falls, headfirst, down, down- and wakes with a gasp, drenched in cold sweat, with the sound of laughter ringing in his ears.

  
-*-

_  
“Before you go, I just wanted to mention the sleeping tablets to you again. The offer’s still on the table, if you want it.”_

_  
Dr Little smiles, but Danny doesn’t return it. He doesn’t smile often these days._

_  
Instead he glances out of the window, observes the thick, lazy storm clouds rolling across the sky, drenching everything below them in heavy droplets of rain._

_  
“No thank you, Dr Little.” Danny eventually answers, still avoiding her gaze.._

_  
“I know you don’t enjoy the dreams Danny.”_

_  
Danny says nothing._

_  
“Do you feel like you deserve them for some reason? Because you’re the one still here?”_

_  
Danny turns away from the window to focus on his new shoes. They’re just plain black converse, nothing special about them but… He was in need of a new pair of trainers, and Tom always liked to wear them - Danny always preferred chunkier brands. But when he saw them in the shop, they reminded him of time with Tom in summer, the hours spent running through the fields, climbing trees, making promises and wishes… he knew they were the ones he needed._

_  
“Danny.” Dr Little once again tries to recapture his attention. “You have no reason to feel guilty for Tom’s d-”_

_  
“Don’t! Please don’t- don’t say it.” Danny stumbles up, nearly tripping up in haste. “I have to go, I’ll miss the bus else.”_

_  
He can’t to get out of the oppressive room fast enough, back into the cold where he belongs._


	4. Sacrifice

Danny finally finds a four-leaf clover beside Tom’s headstone. It’s probably a good sign. He plucks it gingerly with his forefinger and thumb, cupping it in his palms to shield it from the wind, which has picked up quite a bit since he’s been sitting here.

  
After a long moment, he puts it into the inner pocket of his long black coat, and pulls out what he brought along with him. After carefully placing the little object on top of Tom’s gravestone, Danny takes a moment to trace the groves of the letters with his fingers, saying goodbye for the final time.

  
Rising to his knees, he presses a single, gentle kiss to the polished surface of the stone before standing up - stretching out cramped limbs - and walking purposefully away.

  
He’s finally worked out what he needs to do. The lone black castle, from Tom’s beloved chess set, stands proudly upon his last resting place.

  
-*-

  
_“Last time we spoke, I feel we got to the core of your problem Danny... I don’t think you’re entirely willing yourself to get better. Is there some reason you think you deserve to be punished?”_

_  
Danny ignores the question, again choosing to stare at his shoes._

_  
Dr Little sighs. “As I said before, you have no reason to feel guilty for what happened to Tom. There was no way you could have prevented it.”_

_  
“Yes there is!” It comes out as a strangled sort of yell._

_  
Swallowing thickly, Danny finds himself glaring at a bookshelf behind Dr Little’s chair, but his anger isn’t directed at anyone other than himself._

_  
“Why would you say that? Danny?”_

_  
But Danny remains stonily silent, reading through the spines of her many books, in an effort to compose himself._

_  
“You had nothing to do with it. It was a hit and run. You were already at home. It was late, he was listening to his music, the roads were wet because of the rain…”_

_  
Danny is still staring across the room but he doesn’t see it; he’s lost in his memories, almost unaware of his words as they tumble out of his mouth._

_  
“He wouldn’t have been out so late if it wasn’t for me. We would have gone home together, but we- he, he told me- and I didn’t- didn’t know what to say, I was confused and I just… needed time to think, that’s all- and I left him there, I got the bus and he should have- come with me, but it was awkward- he said- he said he’d be fine!_

_  
“He’d said he’d just stay there for a while, he said he’d be alright- but I shouldn’t have left him. And I- it started to rain and if- if it hadn’t have, he would have been f-fine, but the buses- they’re far apart and- and he- oh god, why didn’t he just tell me before?_

_  
“But I should have- I shouldn’t have- he was my **best friend**! We should have gone home together! But we didn’t, and it’s all my fault.”_

_  
Danny buries his head in his hands, breathing raggedly through his sobs, tears cascading down his face, a tide of emotion that just won’t seem to stop, and though Dr Little’s questions keep coming – because understandably, she’s utterly confused – he doesn’t say another word._

_  
_-*-

  
Danny waits until twilight.

  
But until the sky turns the same inky black as the bubbling river, he wanders along its banks, gathering rocks. He slides them into the pockets of his long black coat; he cut them open earlier, so that all the stones drop into the lining, weighing him down and slowing his pace quite considerably. Still, he’s in no hurry.

  
The temperature drops with the dusk; Danny’s wrapped up warm in his sharp black suit and converse, but the icy fingers of the wind still creep inside his clothing, bitter and blunt. He does his best to ignore the sensation as he continues collecting stones.

  
When he finally feels his pockets are heavy enough, Danny takes the second chess piece from his inside pocket. Tom always said he would have been a knight in shining armour in a fairytale, so it’s the black knight he clenches tightly in his fist as he steps into the frigid water.

  
One step after another, Danny strides carefully towards the centre of the river, keeping a steady pace even as the freezing tide sloshes around his thighs and over his knees.

  
The cold is making him shiver, goose pimples covering his skin, but Danny feels the type of peace he hasn’t known since Tom was alive. He allows it to wash over him, soothing and calm.

  
A contented smile settles over his face as the water laps around his waist. The knight is digging into his palm but he doesn’t relax his hold; he needs it to make this work, just like in the fables.

  
He needs a connection to both worlds to create a bridge; and he has all the pieces now, he  _understands_. He takes a final, slow breath and sinks under the water. It’s time for the game to really begin.

  
-*-

  
Stale air rushes into his lungs as Danny takes a deep shuddering breath, and with a spluttering cough he opens his eyes…


	5. Tribute

The staircase of his terrible imaginings looms in front of him. Danny can do nothing but stare and attempt to breathe calmly. The urge to blink - and see if his surroundings remain unchanged - is almost overwhelming.

  
  
Hysterical fear bubbles under the surface of his calm façade; this is truly a nightmare, one which he has no way of escaping from… but he needs to stay focused. He’s got a job to do. So he takes a moment to analyse his situation as rationally as possible.

  
  
There is no warmth in the castle; Danny can see his breath with every exhale, meaning he’ll have to move quickly once he gets going; he doesn’t want to freeze to death. 

  
  
The weight of his coat has vanished; and sure enough, as he looks down at his arms he finds himself only dressed in his shirt - the coat has gone. His hands are empty also; the knight is also missing.

  
  
He finds himself forgetting these details as he stares in horror at his colour-drained fingers, disconcerted at seeing himself in greyscale. This world is almost totally black and white, the only variation being from the shades of grey. If there was a mirror, Danny would see that even his normally bright blue eyes are now the colour of dull fog…

  
  
He turns; the entrance hall, if it can be named so, is just chequered flooring that dissolves into darkness; it’s littered with dead leaves and petals, but there is nothing else, just floor, thick with a layer of ancient grime.

  
  
A barricade of pitch black encompasses his entire breadth of vision; there are no solid walls that Danny can make out. Just the dark, above and around him, as far as the eye can see... the only other features are the ground under his feet and- the stairs.

  
  
Danny lets his eyes wander over all; but the flickering half-light, cast from no visible source, hardly helps to illuminate the dancing grey shadows.

  
  
As he stares into the dark, he imagines it moves; slowly burbles forwards and back, heaving its ethereal mass like a dead weight… It is both disturbing and mesmerising at once; ghastly and captivating.

  
  
He takes hesitant a step towards it, perhaps- but then tears his gaze away, turns back to the crumbling stone staircase, away from the dark. He suddenly knows, instinctively, that to walk out of the small patch of light would be a very foolish idea.

  
  
But Danny doesn’t need these details to scare him; he’s already terrified. There is only one way out… and no one has ever managed it before.

  
  
The staircase waits silently before him.

  
  
Danny’s first step up screams in the silence; the gloom deepens. The stair stretches out equally from both sides and falls into darkness; there is no banister of any kind.

  
  
He can already feel her eyes on him, heavy with hatred, but he steels himself with the knowledge that she can’t get at him until the ballroom… if he manages to make it that far. He’s not stupid; he knows there are other monsters waiting in the dark.

  
  
Shivering almost unperceivably, Danny begins to mount the stairs properly; counting as he goes.  _One, two, three…_

  
  
When he finds himself on the tenth stair, all the steps behind him silently fall away, swallowed by the infinite blackness, along with the chequered flooring.

  
  
Danny attempts to ignore the gnawing fear in his stomach.  _Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…_

  
  
Step by step, he ploughs on, but the staircase seems never-ending.

  
  
Every ten steps he passes fall away into darkness, whilst new ones drop down from the darkness above.  _Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight…_

  
  
The number is reduced to every five steps. Danny does his best to keep focusing on his feet rather than the swirling black shapes at his sides.

  
  
He knows where he’s heading, but this isn’t his world, where logic and physics rule. This is a land of a nightmare, where anything could happen…  _thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six…_

  
  
Danny finally spies a platform above; the top of the staircase! But it’s far from over.

  
  
As soon as he pauses, to judge the distance from here to there, the steps immediately behind him, along with the area of stone he is currently occupying lurch- drop- fall into the abyss, taking Danny with them.

  
  
His scream echoes in the vast nothingness; he doesn’t even register throwing out his arms, but finds himself clutching onto the step above anyway, using all of his strength to hold on.

  
  
Danny can’t suppress a hiss- the delicate flesh of his fingers begins to tear. Under the pressure of his weight the rough stone becomes as sharp as glass.

  
  
Ignoring the pain as best he can, he struggles with all of his might to pull himself higher, and almost succeeds in getting one of his elbows onto the step…

  
  
But something cold, something immensely strong, curls around one of his legs and -with a seemingly effortless tug - Danny finds himself gripping the remaining staircase with only the fingernails of his right hand.

  
  
His legs kick out wildly, but it’s no use, whatever is holding one leg wraps around the other, dragging him down as easily as the sea plucking a pebble from the beach.

  
  
Danny looses his grip on the stone and plummets into the dark with an anguished cry - only to have his arm grasped by a deathly pale hand from above.

  
  
With an almighty wrench, Danny is ripped out of the void and flung into the air. He lands ungracefully onto the platform of stone at the summit, rolling with the force of the momentum, until he comes to rest, on his back, panting, winded, dizzy and sick.

  
  
It happened so fast that he never even got a chance to even see his saviour other than that one arm- he drags himself up into a sitting position, every heartbeat painful in his aching chest, struggling to breathe- but he is alone once more.

  
  
When Danny eventually stumbles to his feet, he closes his eyes for minute, leaning heavily, hands on thighs. He straightens, opens his eyes, and finds himself gazing at a dingy wall.

  
  
He recognises the dank, patchy wallpaper as the one from his dreams… he’s made it to the corridor. He turns, eager to continue on his path.

  
  
But he is faced with another wall, indistinguishable from the other. Danny turns again; the same wall. A full three sixty and he can no longer deny the fear which is still running thickly through his veins; he’s trapped like a spider in a glass.

  
  
Danny can no longer contain the hysteria. He rushes at the wall immediately in front of him, beats it with his fist, angry that this torture should continue when he has already prepared to sacrifice so much.

  
  
But nothing is altered by his emotional outburst- the force of his blow is just absorbed and thrown right back to him, shoving him into the wall behind.

  
  
The wall which seems so much closer all of a sudden… he whirls around and finds he brushes against the other walls. His prison is growing smaller with every breath.

  
  
“ _Oh god no…_ ” he whimpers as the ghostly light which has illuminated his path so far dies, plunging him into total darkness.

  
  
Danny can see nothing but black as the space becomes coffin tight; he feels his head brush against what he assumes is the ceiling above and throws his hands up, pushing against it with all that is left of his strength, but to no avail.

  
  
His haggard breathing is the only thing he can hear, his knees buckle under the pressure of the lowering ceiling, and he topples to the hidden floor with muffled cry.

  
  
He beats against the walls with all of his strength, screaming in anger now, but the space only grows tighter. In a last ditch attempt he flings himself forwards, slamming against a wall which immediately becomes soft and pliant, hurling Danny into the corridor’s mothball carpet.

  
  
Not pausing to look behind him, Danny just jumps up, muscles screaming in protest as he sprints along the corridor, refusing to acknowledge the gruesome paintings in their tarnished frames which fly past him as he tears along.

  
  
His path twists and turns but Danny keeps on running, heartbeat pounding in his eardrums, thumping steps loud enough to wake the dead, breathing in wheezes and pants.

  
  
He rounds another corner and halts, almost tripping over his own feet, because he’s finally facing those garish doors. And above them the little ball of sparkling light hovers, waiting for him. Danny had almost forgotten about it.

  
  
Straightening up, he walks forwards now, keeping his eyes on the light, because it’s so out of place here, and he never did find out what it was…


	6. Vigil

The sparkles of light drift slowly downwards, separating from each other a little, cascading to the floor in a shower of shimmering sparks that form a deathly pale boy, about Danny’s age, if a little taller in height and a little plumper…  
 

A familiar boy with soft, gentle features and that one, adorable dimple…   
  
  
“Tom,” Danny gasps, tears already tumbling down his flushed cheeks.   
  
  
The translucent boy smiles that familiar watery half-smile, hair that would be blonde in full colour swishing slowly from side to side as he shakes his head.   
  
  
“No.” the spectre whispers, “Not the way you wish. I’m just a memory, a missing piece. The rest of me is gone.”   
  
  
Danny says nothing but steps closer, not wanting to believe the spirit’s words.   
  
  
“You saved me?” The tone of his voice indicates it’s a question, but Danny already knows the answer- he recognises those pale hands now he has a chance to scrutinise them.   
  
  
Tom nods, just a simple tilt of his head but it’s the most breathtaking thing Danny has seen in a long time. He looks, talks, moves like Tom- as far as Danny is concerned, this  _is_  Tom.   
  
  
“You shouldn’t have come here Danny.” Tom murmurs. “The living should never see a place like this.”   
  
  
Danny frowns, stepping even closer to him. “But I came here for you. To save you.”   
  
  
“I’m already gone.” The apparition mimics his movements, taking a few calculated steps towards him. “And you will be too, if you don’t go back soon. You’re drowning Danny.”   
  
  
Danny’s vision is suddenly clouded; his lungs are filling with frigid water as the current hauls him, heavy clothing dragging him down, with the added weight of the stones; the little chess knight is cutting into his wrinkled skin-   
  
  
“No!” He wills himself back into the darkness, into the corridor. The apparition sighs, a resigned look settling over its unearthly features.   
  
  
“You are determined then?”   
  
  
Danny nods vigorously, breathless, unable to talk.   
  
  
Tom takes a final step forwards and places his ghostly hands onto Danny’s shoulders. It’s like being plunged into ice- Danny becomes totally numb, unable to move, and feels his strength rush back as Tom moves close, whispers so quietly into his ear that he has to strain to understand the words, words that he can feel vibrating all over his skin, humming through his every bone and muscle.   
  
  
His eyes flutter closed of their own accord as he lets the knowledge sink in, and when he opens them again, Tom is gone.   
  
  
Squaring his shoulders, Danny steps up to the doors that have haunted his dreams for almost a year, and grasps one of the handles tightly. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open before he looses his nerve.   
  
  
It is exactly as he always imagined.   
  
  
A blast of icy air greets him, even more chilling than the cold he has already had to endure as he steps into the huge hall. Thick shadows cover the room, but Danny can still see her clearly. The Queen of Spades leers at him from her wrought iron throne.   
  
  
“So you finally made it.” She hisses with more venom than a snake- but Danny is no longer afraid.   
  
  
“Yup. And you’re going to help me get home. After you bring Tom back.”   
  
  
She laughs, menacing, evil laughter that bounces off walls Danny can’t make out.   
  
  
“Come closer little one. I want to see your face before I tear it off.”   
  
  
Danny doesn’t bother with a reply; he just does as he’s told. He’s going to enjoy watching her realise she is powerless against him.   
  
  
He stops in front of the raised platform her throne sits on, glaring up at her defiantly. She leans forwards, eyes narrowing as she assesses him.   
  
  
“Well, you’re not much, but I suppose you’ll do.” She croons, before raising a hand. She clenches her talons into a fist, clearly expecting something to change.   
  
  
Danny lifts an unimpressed eyebrow when nothing happens.   
  
  
“Impossible…” she begins, before sneering at him again. “Well no matter. There are ways of breaking you down.”   
  
  
“Give it your best shot, bitch. I’ve got forever.”   
  
  
She only glares at him. “You’re going to die, much the same way as your little friend. It’s going to be slow, and painful, and I’m going to relish it.”   
  
  
“You’ll never be able to kill me-” Danny begins, but can continue no longer when an image floats in front of his mind, something he doesn’t want to remember…   
  
  
“But you will remember it little one, remember how your selfish actions killed the only person who understood you, remember it all…”   
  
  
Hazy images swirl in his mind, becoming clearer every time he tries to push them away.   
  
  
“I’m going to make you beg for death…” The Queen’s whisper is the last thing he hears as he blacks out.   
  
  
-*-   
  
  
Danny opens his eyes and finds himself gazing upon himself, his younger self, a memory of that night, over a year ago…   
  
  
 **Tom had turned to face him. “I love you. I’m _in love_  with you. I have been for, well, what feels like forever.”**   
  
  
 **Danny had just stared at his best friend, completely baffled. Tom had managed to keep eye contact whilst he spoke, but couldn’t seem to continue to do so afterwards, almost as though he wanted to protect himself from whatever emotions he would see in Danny’s eyes.**    
  
  
 **“But- you… what?” Danny had spluttered, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.**    
 **  
  
Tom had given a little snort of laughter, but it was laden with the deepest of sadness. “It’s alright, I don’t expect you to want to hang around with me anymore. I just- wanted you to know. That you are loved. Just by the wrong person I guess.”**    
  
  
Danny winces, trying to remember what that means. Oh yes- he had been feeling sorry for himself, because he felt unloved. That’s how the conversation had started in the first place. Danny had been utterly pathetic as usual and Tom had tried to cheer him up and then-   
  
  
Danny still couldn’t manage to do anything useful, even then, when Tom, his  _best friend_ , was hurting. He wants to scream at his younger self, but it would be no use.   
  
  
 **Tom had stood up, and brushed off his jeans. “I- I’m just going to go. Thanks for- not- not punching me. I’ll see you around.”**    
  
  
 **He had already begun to walk away, shoulders slumped in defeat, before Danny had managed to get his voice to work again. “Wait!”  
  
**  
 **He had stumbled up, hurrying after the blonde, who had eyed him with startled surprise.**    
 **  
  
“Don’t- don’t go.” Danny hadn’t known what else to say.**    
 **  
  
They had stood in silence. Tom staring down at his scuffed shoes, Danny trying desperately to articulate the confusing thoughts that had been bouncing around his head.**    
  
  
 **Eventually he had managed; “I don’t- wanna stop hanging out with you. You- you’re my best friend. I just-”**    
  
  
 **“Don’t feel the same way?” Tom had finished for him, finally looking up again, and Danny had just floundered, because he just- he wasn’t sure.**    
  
  
 **But Tom had been. “I know you don’t love me Danny, not in that way at least. It’s… I mean, I accepted that. Ages ago.”**    
  
  
 **“But- we can still be friends right?” Danny had grasped that lifeline, so he would have more time to think. Did he love Tom like that? He hadn’t known then. Wouldn’t know until it was too late.**    
  
  
 **Tom’s face had finally relaxed into a relieved smile. “Yeah… if you still want to be.”**    
  
  
 **“Course!” Danny had felt as though a weight had been lifted from him- he had thought everything would be okay. How wrong he was…**    
  
  
 **Tom glanced at his watch. “Next bus in a few minutes.”**    
  
  
 **They had already agreed to get that one.**    
  
  
 **“We should get a move on then.” Danny had said, but Tom had shaken his head.**    
  
  
 **“I’m gonna stay a while longer, take the path through the old churchyard and that. I feel like a walk.”**    
 **  
  
Danny had frowned. “You sure?”**    
  
  
 **“Yeah, I just wanna think. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get the next one.”**    
  
  
 **“Alright…” Danny could have made him, if he had only asked, but he hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to think, alone, as well.**    
  
  
 **They usually hugged goodbye, had done since they were little, but not that night- it had been just all awkward and wrong, that last goodbye. It shouldn’t have been like that.**    
  
  
 **They had begun to walk away from each other, in opposite directions, when Danny had turned, called out; “We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”**    
  
  
 **Tom looked over his shoulder to smile at him, that beautiful, melancholy smile, illuminated by the moonlight. “Yeah. See you later!”  
  
**  
 **Those were last words they had ever spoken to each other. Danny had caught the bus home, lost in his thoughts, had curled up in his bed with the night’s events whirling around in his mind.  
  
**  
 **He had determined to talk to Tom properly, tomorrow, to reassure him that he was loved too, and maybe even in the same way- he just hadn’t been that sure, wanted to be sure, before they crossed any boundaries, but Tom was still his best friend, and that nothing would keep them apart.  
  
**  
 **They’d clear the air, get rid of the awkwardness and everything would be okay. He had fallen into sweet sleep, content with his plan, but by then it was already too late.**    
  
  
-*-   
  
  
Tears stream down Danny’s face. There are so many things he should have done, should have said…   
  
  
“Ready for death yet, little one? Not that it hasn’t been entertaining, watching you suffer, but I’m getting hungry you see…”   
  
  
“No.” He growls, curling his fingers into fists against the dusty, chequered floor of the hall. When did he fall to his knees? He doesn’t know…   
  
  
“No? You want more?”   
  
  
He answers her question with his own. “Why? Why did you do that to him?”   
  
  
“Because I wanted to.” She laughs.   
  
  
“He created you!” Danny screams, and her face hardens.   
  
  
“Yes, and look what kind of life he gave me. You have no idea,  _no idea_ , what my existence has been!”   
  
  
“It was only meant to be a story-”   
  
  
Her eyes flash with fire, wild with hate. “It wasn’t for me. It was my life. My entire existence has been…  _torture_. He gave me this hell, and nothing else. I have nothing,  _nothing_! No one.”   
  
  
A single tear slides down her yellowing cheek. “No one has ever loved me. I have always been alone.”   
  
  
“Then help me change it. You killed your maker, the only one who could. Help me. And save yourself.”   
  
  
She turns her gaze away from him, staring into the darkness.   
  
  
“Why can’t I kill you?” She murmurs, more to herself than to him, but he answers her anyway.   
  
  
“Because you’re forgetting how it is that you kill. You take people’s souls from them… only my soul isn’t in here. My soul and my heart are one… and my heart belongs to Tom. Belongs  _in_  Tom. People gave you their souls, even though they didn’t mean to, didn’t want to. You made them long for death. But no matter what you do to me, you will never take my soul… because it isn’t mine to give.”   
  
  
He pauses, waiting for her to acknowledge him. Finally, her onyx eyes lock with his dull grey.   
  
  
“Help me.” He repeats.   
  
  
Her reply is only a whisper, but it rings out through the hall.   
  
  
“How?”   
  
  
-*-   
  
  
Danny splutters awake with a hacking cough. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, doesn’t want to see whether or not his plan has worked. He takes a moment to build his confidence and then he pushes away from the ground, fingers digging into the pebbled soil as he sits up and takes in his surroundings. He’s lying on the very edge of the river bank, wearing jeans and a hoody; the same clothes he was wearing that night…   
  
  
Barely able to believe it, he scrambles to his feet, jogging alongside the river before taking a sharp right and stumbling up a thin path in the bank, tearing towards the town square as the clock begins to strike twelve because he's going to loose Tom,  _again_ , if he doesn’t get to him soon.   
  
  
He sprints along a cobbled street, not even noticing the heavy rain which is steadily soaking his clothes- he’s into the main square and- there! Less than ten paces in front of him, a familiar blonde is walking, head tucked into his jacket in an attempt to keep himself warm, and it knocks all the breath from Danny’s lungs because it’s  _Tom_ , real Tom, not just a ghostly imprint, but the real thing, living, breathing… and walking steadily to his doom.   
  
  
“Tom!” He screams, running again, once, twice, three times; the older boy stops, turns, tugging his headphones out, gaping at him in surprise.   
  
  
Danny flings himself at the blonde, whose startled words are lost when Danny’s lips settle over his own- for a moment Tom appears to be frozen in shock, but then he’s kissing Danny back, winding a hand into his soaking wet hair and tugging him impossibly close, and to say it’s the most wonderful thing Danny has ever felt in his life would be a vast understatement.   
  
  
Danny forces himself to pull away, breathing deeply as he pants; “I  _do_  love you Tom. More than anything else in the world.”   
  
  
Tom laughs, a delightful, amazing sound, and goes to kiss him again, but Danny shakes his head, moving away.   
  
  
“You have to listen to me Tom- you have  _no idea_ , what it was like, without you, god…”   
  
  
Tom frowns, puzzled. “But, Dan. I only saw you fifteen minutes ago.”   
  
  
Danny laughs, dizzy with so many emotions running through him at once. “Fifteen minutes…”   
  
  
Tom nods, but Danny is distracted by a car, screeching and wavering towards the bridge. He pulls Tom around to watch it.   
  
  
“That car’s going to slam into the left side of the bridge.” He says, and sure enough, it does. Danny clings tightly onto Tom’s arm as it smashes against the stonework, and then continues on its way, hurling along at breakneck speed.   
  
  
Tom gapes at him. “How did you know…?”   
  
  
Danny shakes his head sorrowfully. “I’ll tell you one day, I promise. But listen, I need you to trust me, okay?”   
  
  
Tom nods, eyes wide with concern.   
  
  
Danny takes a deep breath. “I read your story. The one you’ve been writing, for my birthday. I found it, and I was curious, and I know I shouldn’t have but I did and… one day, I swear, I will tell you why this is so important but, for now, just run with it. Please. You have no idea what it will mean, if you don’t do this.”   
  
  
Tom looks completely confused but he nods again anyway. “Do what?”   
  
  
“I need you to change it. Like, a load of it…” 


	7. Epilogue

**Two months later.**  
  
  
“Happy birthday, Danny.”   
  
  
Tom hands him the ring-bound book, and Danny smiles up at him before flicking to very the end, where he reads;   
  
  
 _…and the King and Queen of Spades lived happily ever after in their castle in the sky._    
  
  
Danny smiles up at him again, eyes shining with tears. “Thank you.”   
  
  
Tom leans down, dropping a slow, gentle kiss on his lips, before tugging him to his feet. “Come on, lets go.”   
  
  


And they walk together, hand-in-hand, unable to suppress their happy smiles as they wander through the meadows in the beautiful spring sunshine.   
   
  
-*-  
 

_And I know that it's a wonderful world_   
_I can't feel it right now_   
_I got all the right clothes to wear_   
_I just want to cry now_   
_Well I know that it's a wonderful world_   
_From the sky down to the sea_   
_But I can only see it when you're here, here with me_

_And I know that it's a wonderful world_   
_When you're with me ~_   



End file.
